Chapter 1
The pink paint hit my wedding dress before I even saw my sister raise her hand.
One second, I was standing in front of the mirror, admiring the white lace gown I had dreamed about wearing for years.
The next, a thick splash of bright pink paint exploded across my chest.
I screamed.
The cold liquid ran down the delicate lace, spreading over the fitted bodice and dripping onto the flowing skirt.
My beautiful white gown was destroyed.
And standing three feet away from me was my younger sister, Vanessa.
She was holding an empty plastic container.
A satisfied smile stretched across her face.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
I just stared at the pink stains covering the dress I had saved for nearly two years to buy.
"VANESSA!"
My voice echoed through the bridal suite.
"What did you do?"
She tossed the container onto the marble floor.
It bounced twice before rolling beneath a chair.
Then she folded her arms across her bright-red bridesmaid dress.
"Oops."
I stared at her.
"Oops?"
She tilted her head.
"Now everyone will see what you really are."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Vanessa smiled.
"Exactly what I said."
I looked down at my gown.
The paint was already soaking into the fabric.
I grabbed a white towel from the makeup table and pressed it against the stain.
Pink spread onto the towel.
Then onto my fingers.
I rubbed harder.
"No. No, no, no."
The lace began stretching beneath my hands.
I stopped.
I couldn't breathe.
My wedding ceremony was supposed to begin in forty minutes.
More than two hundred guests were waiting downstairs.
The ballroom was decorated with thousands of white roses.
The musicians were preparing to play.
And Marcus, the man I loved more than anything, was waiting to become my husband.
I had spent eighteen months planning this day.
Eighteen months.
Vanessa had destroyed it in less than three seconds.
"Why would you do this to me?"
My voice broke.
She shrugged.
"Maybe because I'm tired of watching you get everything."
I stared at her.
"Everything?"
"The perfect career. The perfect house. The perfect man."
Her lips curled.
"And now the perfect wedding."
I could barely recognize my own sister.
We had grown up sharing a bedroom.
I had helped her with homework.
I had paid part of her college tuition when Mom couldn't afford it.
When her first boyfriend abandoned her, she slept in my apartment for three months.
I had never imagined she could look at me with so much hatred.
"Vanessa, you're my sister."
"Unfortunately."
The word struck me harder than the paint.
Before I could answer, the door flew open.
Marcus rushed inside.
He was wearing his black tuxedo, his bow tie slightly crooked.
"Nia? I heard screaming!"
Then he saw me.
His eyes dropped to my dress.
He stopped moving.
For a moment, he looked completely stunned.
"What happened?"
I opened my mouth.
No sound came out.
Vanessa answered for me.
"Little accident."
Marcus looked at the empty container.
Then at her.
"An accident?"
She lifted one shoulder.
"Paint spills."
His expression hardened.
"Vanessa, are you insane?"
I had never heard him speak to my sister that way.
He crossed the room and stood beside me.
"Baby, are you hurt?"
I shook my head.
But tears were already running down my cheeks.
"My dress."
Marcus looked at the spreading stain.
I saw the pain in his eyes.
He knew what this dress meant to me.
He had watched me work extra shifts to pay for it.
He had seen the photographs I saved.
He knew I had chosen every little detail myself.
He gently touched my shoulder.
"We'll figure something out."
Vanessa laughed.
"Good luck with that."
Marcus turned toward her.
"What's wrong with you?"
She folded her arms.
"Maybe you should thank me."
"For what?"
"Saving you from a mistake."
The room went silent.
Marcus stared at her.
"What did you just say?"
Vanessa lifted her chin.
"You heard me."
I felt something change inside me.
The sadness was still there.
So was the humiliation.
But beneath it, something stronger began to rise.
Anger.
I looked at the woman standing in front of me.
My sister.
The person who should have been protecting me.
Instead, she had tried to destroy the happiest day of my life.
And she was enjoying every second.
I slowly stopped crying.
I lowered the ruined towel.
Then I looked directly into her eyes.
"You really thought one dress could stop my wedding?"
For the first time, Vanessa's smile weakened.
"What?"
I took a step toward her.
"You think Marcus is marrying a dress?"
She looked at him.
Then back at me.
"I think you won't be walking down that aisle looking like that."
Marcus reached for my hand.
"I'd marry Nia wearing jeans."
I squeezed his fingers.
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"How romantic."
I was about to answer when I heard hurried footsteps outside.
Someone was approaching the bridal suite.
The door opened.
My mother walked inside.
Claire Carter.
Elegant as always in her champagne-colored dress.
But what caught my attention wasn't her expression.
It was the enormous garment bag she carried over one arm.
Mom stopped when she saw me.
Her eyes moved over the bright pink paint.
Then she looked at Vanessa.
Her face became cold.
"So you actually did it."
Vanessa's expression flickered.
"Mom?"
My mother didn't answer.
She placed the garment bag carefully across the couch.
Then she looked at me.
"Sweetheart, come here."
I stepped toward her.
She touched my cheek.
"I'm so sorry."
I began crying again.
"Mom, my dress is ruined."
She nodded.
"I know."
Then she glanced toward Vanessa.
"But thankfully, your sister never knew about the second dress."
I stared at her.
"The what?"
Mom reached for the zipper.
Vanessa suddenly stepped forward.
"Wait."
Her voice sounded different.
Sharp.
Frightened.
Mom ignored her.
She slowly opened the bag.
Inside was the most beautiful wedding gown I had ever seen.
Soft ivory fabric.
Delicate gold embroidery.
Tiny crystals sparkling beneath the sunlight.
I covered my mouth.
"Mom..."
She smiled through tears.
"Your grandmother saved this for you."
I reached toward the gown.
My fingers trembled.
Then I noticed Vanessa.
Her face had gone completely pale.
She stared at the dress as though she had seen a ghost.
"That dress..."
Mom looked at her.
Vanessa swallowed.
"That dress was supposed to be—"
She stopped.
And suddenly, I understood something.
My sister wasn't simply angry that I was getting married.
She believed something had been taken from her.
May you like
Something connected to our grandmother.
Something my mother had never told me.
